"MORNING"

Volume 1, Issue 3 - "MORNING" is here.  It was early on one of the first days of autumn. The temperature had dropped overnight, and the sun had yet to crack the horizon. I was driving through rural York County, part of what had recently become my daily commute, when I approached a rolling field blanketed in fog. By the light of the moon I could faintly make out the silhouettes of dairy cattle scattered about. Further, crumbling tombstones leaned beside a cornfield behind St. Jacob’s Evangelical Lutheran Church. Across the street, St. Jacob’s United Church of Christ advertised a Pot Pie dinner for the coming Tuesday. I opened the windows. It just felt right—the darkness of the morning, the chill in the air, the almost guilty feeling of seeing something before the rest of the world wakes. The morning seemed to hold loosely in its hands a tension between light and dark, hot and cold, the friction of one season letting go into another. Those hills and the cows in the pasture, combine